Where was he? If he hadn't gone
home when he left work, where had he gone? Then again, where did he ever go? She didn't know.
Still, it seemed that with that Shannon girl coming in and him leaving, he would be home.
Then again, maybe he had been there, but he left before she got home.
Without him there, all she had to do was sit there and wonder what kind of evil things Shannon must have done to Aaron. Maybe that was why he was so mean—maybe he had been hurt so badly that he became embittered. Sometimes that happened to people.
Without all the facts, she knew that she could make up all kinds of stories in her head about the hated redhead, and she knew she was probably bored enough to do it, but before she could color her opinion of the situation with her imaginary situations, she decided just to turn the TV on.
As the hours ticked slowly by, and the reruns ran together, she wondered when she should actually get worried. Surely he would have to come home, right? And if he didn't, what did she do? He had never neglected to come home at all before, but it was getting late. Checking the clock once more, she verified that it was creeping close to one a.m. and her eyelids were beginning to feel really, really heavy.
Still, despite his obvious feelings about her, she felt she needed to be there and be awake when he got home. She wanted to show her support—even though she couldn't put her finger on why. All things considered, it should probably be the redhead she was sympathizing with, because she certainly knew what it felt like to feel the frostbite from Aaron's cold shoulder.
Since she kept feeling herself fall asleep on the couch, she decided to go into Aaron's room and curl up in his bed for two reasons. One: if he came home, he would wake her up if she was in his bed, so she could show her solidarity. Two: if he didn't come home at all, she got the bed for the night.
Turning the television off, she yawned and moseyed into the bathroom to brush her teeth, then she went in and climbed into Aaron's bed all by herself, pulling the cool blankets up around her and sighing contentedly. He had such a comfortable bed—or maybe it just felt comfortable in comparison to her boat.
Julie the face painting pirate and her boat bed.
Lovely, she thought ironically as she drifted off to sleep.
---
Since Julie wasn't exactly a sound sleeper, she was brought from her restful sleep when she heard a slight commotion near the doorway and a muttered, "Fuck."
Her eyes opened, and she registered that either Aaron was home or she was being burglarized. Looking to the window to see what time of night it might be, she saw that it was still dark.
Another noise behind her almost made her turn around, but then she could hear someone walking closer to the bed, and she felt the bed sag under the weight of another person.
Surely a burglar wouldn't take the time to crawl into bed with her.
Then she wondered if he had even noticed she was in his bed. It seemed obvious, but there were a lot of blankets, and he hadn't growled at her to get out or anything, so maybe…
Before she could think about it anymore, she felt Aaron moving around, trying to get comfortable, and then without warning an arm came from out of nowhere and wrapped itself around her.
Her eyes bugging out in the darkness, she wasn't sure if she should let him know she was awake or play at sleeping. His arm was around her body. There had to be some mistake. She could actually feel his wrist dangerously close to her breast, and for one horrified moment she wondered if he thought she was someone else.
Then her wits returned and she realized he couldn't possibly think she was anyone else, because no one else lived there.
Then he sighed a little, and she caught an old familiar scent: alcohol.
He was drunk.
His arm was around her and he didn't care if she slept in his bed because he was drunk.
"Aaron?" she murmured quietly in the dark.
"Hmm?" he responded.
Well, now what was she supposed to say?
"Um… is everything okay?" she asked.
"Do you really care?" he asked, but there was almost amusement in his voice.
Frowning slightly, she realized she wasn't lying when she said, "Yes."